Hold Me As I Cry
by Keeper of Tomes
Summary: I never anticipated this. This wasn't supposed to happen. It just...wasn't. All the years we spent together, we never spoke of this. Because...we're the Storm Hawks. We don't speak of things like death. Drabbles.
1. Anticipate

I didn't anticipate this.

This wasn't supposed to happen. It just...wasn't. All the years we spent together, we never spoke of this. Because...we're the Storm Hawks. We don't speak of things like death.

If only we knew. If only we knew that death was waiting in the shadows, waiting to jump, fangs bared, claws sharpened.

And now?

Now?

I don't know what happens now.

He's gone. He's not coming back. We'll never see him again.

Where he's gone, we can't follow. I can't follow.


	2. Stars

I stare out the window and imagine the stars.

He loved the stars.

And me?

I can't say they meant that much to me. But they do now. Anything that reminds me of him...

I try counting them. I wonder how he could have loved something so far away, so endless.

Radarr walks in the room, whimpering. I smile sadly, because once upon a time...

Once upon a time, a boy would walk in here, Radarr on his shoulder, grin on his face. Once upon a time, things were RIGHT.

Now? All I'm left with are stars.


	3. What If

I often ask myself, _What if things had turned out differently?_

_What if he'd been here to see our victory?_

_What if...I told him?_

But what ifs don't get you anywhere.

We're all so cold. So alone.

If he were here, he'd know what to do. He'd clap Junko on the back, give Finn a noogie, and tousle Radarr's hair. He'd tell Stork to calm down. He'd give Starling a smile. He'd wrap an arm around me and make me feel warm again.

Last night, I managed to fall asleep without crying.

I don't know if that's a good thing or not.


	4. Loved

I loved him.

I came to that conclusion today.

I loved him.

I loved him.

I loved him.

And I wish...

Well, I wish he was here. So that I could tell him.

I loved him.

And I wish...

I wish...

I wish lots of things.


	5. Darkness

I'm starting to hate the moments when the sun slides away, because that's when the darkness comes. And when the darkness comes, and I close my eyes, I see his face. Not his smiling, happy, alive face.

I see his face...the moment he died.

The moment his enemy's sword plunged through his body. The shock written across his eyes. His mouth, barely open, as if he was going to say something, some final word. The blood, pouring from his open veins...

And I remember not being able to breath.

I close my eyes, and I see him dying. I open my eyes...and I see him standing in my doorway, grinning.

I'm not sure which one is worse. They both hurt so much.


	6. Finality

His last words echo in my head, a throbbing reminder.

"Piper, NO!"

Everyone expected a heroic phrase. Something poignant. Something...meaningful. He didn't grace us with amazing wisdom, however. He graced us with a sense of finality. Irony.

My name.

He shouted my name.

And then?

Well, I wheeled around and ducked. The shot missed me. I grinned at him. He grins back.

A shadow falls. I open my mouth to warn him...

But he doesn't hear. The sword moves forward, a flash of silver. The silver turns to red. He crumbles.

The others say they understand. But they don't. I've moved to a point beyond crying.

It hits me.

I'll never...ever...hear...his voice again.

Only that final phrase.

"Piper, NO!"

Echoing across the voids of my memory.


	7. Apologize

All I want to do is apologize. Say sorry.

Every day, I ask for life to give me one more chance. But life...is a haughty thing. And I am normally met with an upturned nose. As if she's saying, "You had your chance. You screwed it up. Now, he's dead. Nothing to do with ME."

Maybe it wasn't my fault. Maybe it was just a minor fluke. A chance mistake. Fate.

Or maybe...

Maybe, if I had been paying attention, if I had seen the shot, he wouldn't have had to warn me. And he'd be alive today.

Everyone else doesn't have to deal with the fact that THEY contributed to his death. They mourn in their own way. They shed their tears...for their own reasons.

I shed mine because I hope that every drop of salty liquid that falls to the earth is somehow a form of payment. Payment for what I did.


	8. Memory

The radio's playing. I'm swaying to the music, my arms hanging loosely at my sides, staring at the wall.

I've torn away all my Storm Hawks memorabilia. It's too painful. I've taken every poster, every photo, every sketch, down.

Save one.

My favorite picture.

He's grinning. His eyes are averted. They aren't staring directly at the camera. And I know why. It's because he's glancing at me. The picture was taken seconds after he asked me...if his hair was OK. I don't remember my answer. I just remember him asking.

I lean forward on my bed and run my fingers down his cheek. The paper crinkles at my touch. For a moment, I can almost feel his skin. His breath.

The radio clicks off. I turn. It's Finn. He's staring at me. I draw my hand back quickly.

He sits down.

We both stare at the picture for a long, long time.

The sun sets.

We don't notice.


	9. Aching

A throbbing in my chest wakes me. My ribs are digging into my heart. I'm aching. Missing something.

I turn on the light. My eyes hurt.

The lamp is a tiny oasis in the middle of my darkened room. I stare at it until my vision's clear again. Then I roll over in bed. Nothing but a blank wall greets me. I stare at it.

I imagine he's lying beside me.

The others have been trying hard to make me feel better. To help me move on. But I don't want to move on. If I move on, I might forget. Forget every tiny moment we ever spent together. Every smile, every word, every movement he ever made...If I move on, I might not remember it.

I don't want to let go.

A piece of my soul was hollowed out when I first met him. And every single second we ever talked, or worked, or even just looked at each other, was one more milligram of love that hollow space was filled up with. The moment it overflowed would've been the moment I told him.

But I never got that chance. He was gone before the last few inches could be filled.

I'll walk around with a half full heart for the rest of my life. The stale liquid inside sloshing around.

I close my eyes. The lamp fizzes out.

My insides are hurting so much, I'm numb.


	10. Killing

I had nightmares.

I woke up, my stomach churning. I raced to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet, last night's dinner revisiting. I fall to the tiled floor, my mouth filled with a salty taste, throat sore.

My mind is in an uproar.

The nightmares are always the same.

It's always that moment. I relive it every night. The blade cutting into him, fresh blood splattering across my face and arms. His snarl still embedded on his face when he stumbled to the ground. He reached out to steady himself, but the arm crumpled. He collapsed at my feet.

I tell myself I shouldn't regret killing him.

It was his fault my best friend's gone.

He was a menace.

I did a good thing.

It was revenge.

So why am I hurling in the bathroom? Why do I wake up with sweat clinging to my body?

Why do I regret every second of...of...slaughtering him?


	11. Pieces

You know, sometimes, Finn can be such a pain in the nether regions.

But lately, he's been a comfort.

I told him about the nightmares.

He just nodded and nodded and nodded. As if he knew. As if he understood.

But he can't take the dreams away. Only I can do that.

Aside from the vivid nighttime images, I can't remember much from that day.

I remember running to his fallen body, cradling his head in my arms, listening as his final, tortured breath escaped him. The blade jutted from his open chest, still quivering.

I faintly remember pulling the sword out.

I remember my enemy's eyes, as they widened in shock.

I remember...staring down on two broken bodies.

But every other moment is blurry. As if my mind can't put the pieces together.

Can't...or won't.


	12. Drowning

Thunder rumbles, a warning of rain. I don't listen.

I stand outside, on the runway, staring at the tread marks. Some of them were his. The last time he ever took off...

Never to return.

Rain starts to drip.

I pretend I don't notice.

It's as if...

It's as if the sky is washing away my tears and replacing them with her own.

Maybe she feels my pain.

Or maybe it's just coincidence. An illusion. But the illusion gives me...comfort.

I know the others are staring.

I don't care.

I'm drowning.

OOO

A/N: Oh, the joy. I'm wishing for rain, right now. It's as dry as my mom's flap-jacks out here. Not even KIDDING.


	13. Reminders

We landed on Atmosia. I was walking down the street, heading towards the marketplace. That's when I saw them.

I thought, for a second, that it was HIM. Flaming red hair, about that height. But then, I saw his eyes. Brown. Plain, old, brown.

His girl was smiling.

They were holding hands.

He said something in her ear.

She gave him a playful slap. He caught her lips in his. She leaned against him. They headed down the road.

I never got that chance.

I never got to hold hands with him.

I never got to hear him whisper sweet words into my ear.

I never got to kiss him, or hold him, or a million other things lovers do together.

I know I shouldn't live in the past.

The hurt fades, sometimes.

But it's like wherever I go, I see him.

And I start hurting all over again.


	14. Fantasy World

Recently, the nightmares have been improving.

No blood.

No screaming.

Just that final, tortured, breath of his.

His eyes fluttering shut.

His mouth closing.

When I look back, it's almost like I could see Death, standing nearby, head bowed. Reluctant to take him, reluctant to leave him here.

Perhaps I'm living in a fantasy world, where things right themselves naturally. Where--

Oh, look!

A bird, stalling on the wind.

Hope on its wings.


	15. Hold Me As I Cry

I was standing on the runway, watching the clouds drift by, and someone cleared their throat.

It went like this...

_Eh-hem._

It was a human sound.

I turned to see Finn, a wavering smile on his face. His eyes didn't shine, though.

They never did.

Not since...things went downward.

And seeing him there, his eyes shine-less, his shoulders sagging, made me feel so wrong. I've been too selfish lately.

I've been wallowing in my own sorrow.

I didn't consider once, how the others had dealt with this.

And he walked over and gave me a hug.

We sobbed into each other's shoulders.

I realized, then and there, that I was fixed. Perhaps not entirely. I'll never be whole. But I've patched up my heart. I can live again. And maybe, just maybe...I can love again, as well.

All I needed, this entire time, was someone.

Someone to hold me as I cried.

OOO

A/N: It just felt like a good time to start pulling the loose strings together for this fic.

Only a few more drabbles left to this one.


	16. It's the Rider

We're all staying inside today. It's the first hot day in months, and boy, when things get hot, they get HOT.

The ship has turned into a giant, flying, grill. You could've made breakfast on it.

Toast could have been made on the runway. Scrambled eggs on the roof. Bacon on the balcony.

He would've grinned and called us silly. He would've flown around, outside, until either he fried, or the skimmer fried. And he'd come home, still smiling, and say how much fun it was.

I can look back on these things and grin.

It was what he would've wanted.

For us to move on.

What was it he always said? _It's the rider, not the ride. _

It's how you look at life, not how life actually IS.

It's how I take his death that counts.

He's gone.

I can't change that.

But I can change how I feel about it.


	17. Life Goes On

The wind was a ribbon of soft, moving air, and it wrapped around all of us like molten butter.

We stood on the tiny terra, our eyes fixed onto the blue banner that streaked across the darkening sky. The hawk that emblazoned it was stretched to the wind, with wings spread out, ready to fly.

I allowed myself to turn away, looking instead at the small, raised mound of dirt on the ground. And I wished we were closer to heaven. We would have buried him in a cloud, if it was possible.

Close to the sky. Close to the stars.

But he ended up in the realm of gravity.

I stood over him, my heart slowing down. The others fell back. It was time to go.

But I knelt and brushed my hand over the place where his hands would have rested. I gave him a small hello. I told him what he'd missed, what had happened after his death. I recounted the little things he would have wanted to know.

A few stray tears stubbornly find their way to my cheeks.

Maybe it was just my imagination. But I thought I heard the wind say a few words.

_Don't cry._

I stop. I smile.

I got to my feet.

I saluted him, my hand trembling a little.

I said goodbye.

And I head for my friends. I head for home.

Life goes on.

**Fin**

OOO

A/N: Whoot! Life goes on. And you go with it.

Anyways, "Believe" will probably never end, "Traitor to the Cause" is on hiatus because my muse for it has gone on vacation, and my next drabble series is still undecided, so please, vote if you haven't already. The poll is on my profile.


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